Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Imperative (Jason Bourne series)

By Eric Van Lustbader

The fellow Jason Bourne fishes out of the freezing sea is close to loss of life, half-drowned and bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound. He awakens with out reminiscence of who he's or why he used to be shot-and Bourne is eerily reminded of his personal amnesia. Then Bourne discovers that the Mossad agent named Rebeka is so made up our minds to discover this injured guy that she has long gone off the grid, lower her ties to her company, and is now being stalked by means of Mossad's so much feared killer. Do the solutions to those mysteries lie again in southeast Lebanon, in a mystery encampment to which Bourne and Rebeka escaped following a firefight weeks ago?
The complicated path hyperlinks to the project given to Treadstone administrators Peter Marks and Soraya Moore: locate the semi-mythic terrorist murderer referred to as Nicodemo.
In the process Bourne's determined, lethal look for a mystery that might regulate the way forward for the total global, he'll event either triumph and loss, and his existence is absolutely not the same.
Now every little thing activates the amnesiac. Bourne needs to examine his identification and objective prior to either he and Rebeka are killed. From Stockholm to Washington, D.C., from Mexico urban to Beijing, the internet of lies and betrayals extends right into a around the globe conspiracy of enormous proportions.

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Why have been you right here? ” Alef shook his head. “I crossed the lake or—” He took a step onto the ice. “I used to be attempting to escape. ” “Get clear of who? ” Bourne pressed him. “Who was once chasing you? ” “That lake. ” Alef had all started to shake. “That rattling lake. ” a type of electrical typhoon bursts in the back of his eyes as shards of thoughts bubble up from the fog of his amnesia. He sees himself, hears the panting of his breath, sees the slender determine skating lithely after him as though on blades. An abrupt clean, the memory-lamp within his head extinguished, then he feels himself stumbling. the following speedy, he's down on his knees, the determine is dashing inexorably towards him, and he turns, goals his handgun, yet he stumbles, and it is going flying. He desires to scramble after it, yet there’s no time. He’s off and working back, operating for his existence. those stories rush at him like an attacking military, flickering out and in of concentration. In among is the darkness of the befogged abyss he has come to grasp as amnesia—his existence ripped clear of him, without end past his clutch. The grief that had held him speedy fast morphs into panic welling up inside of him as shards of reminiscence stab him so quick and furiously that he turns into crushed, disoriented, in short insane. Alef blinked, again within the current. “Okay. ” Shadowed by way of pines, on the fringe of the flat, glittering expanse, Bourne started to consultant him again towards the coastline the place he had moored the boat. “I imagine that’s adequate for this present day. ” “No! My existence is again there! i must get it again! ” Alef broke away, hit the ice, yet sooner than he might take one other step Bourne grabbed him, jerking him again into the shield of the timber. “You can’t exit there,” Bourne acknowledged. “It’s too uncovered, too risky. ” “Dangerous? ” Bourne shook him in short, attempting to get him to concentration. “You have been shot, keep in mind? somebody is when you. ” “I’m useless, Jason. ” He stared wide-eyed. “Don’t you notice? No one’s after me now. ” Bourne observed that this journey that he and Christien had selected was once a mistake. It was once too quickly. Alef was once wasting his grip on truth. “Let’s return to the boat and speak it via flippantly and rationally. ” Alef hesitated, staring out around the icy expanse of the lake, then nodded. “Okay. ” however the immediate Bourne allow cross, he broke away, started to skate onto the lake, his legs splayed, his fingers immediately out like plane wings to maintain himself from sprawling headfirst onto the ice. Bourne lunged after him, one eye on Alef, the opposite at the bushes, dense adequate to conceal a regiment, that ringed the lake. The wind whipped slivers of ice into his face. He raised one hand to defend his eyes, and heard the pointy record as though it have been an afterimage, there and long past sooner than it registered. Thick shards of ice fountained up because the sharpshooter squeezed off extra pictures, making a deep gouge within the ice simply in entrance of the place Alef stood. Bourne slammed into Alef, overlaying him yet, even as, sliding either one of them ahead into the gouge made via the sniper’s bullets. The ice cracked in a spiderweb underneath them.

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